That space pervading us always

What is this invisible space before us? Without its translucence you could not now be reading my words, and this morning you and I would’ve risen to a dark labyrinth.
What is this “air”? The ‘experts’ say this space has molecules – those of nitrogen – some argon – some sulfur. They say things are in it, continually bouncing with intrinsic pressure?

Reader, speak now! – grumble! (blah)

The invisibleness now personally spoke to you. Without those atoms of oxygen – that atom near your ear which vibrated in secret code to your eardrum – and whose code was then translated into electrical brain activity – wouldn’t have happened, it is entirely owed to that pressure.
Imagine Neil Armstrong jumping off Apollo eleven, about to speak those immortalized words without a helmet (ignore his head exploding). He jumps down – he does his bouncing – and says… “ “.
That’s what he says – the atoms in outer space are too spread out for that mystery we call sound.Let us see those invisible helpers we so ignore.
Ah yes – here’s oxygen – what one philosopher called ‘the elixir of life’

Ah and here’s nitrogen – more abundant in her air numbers than oxygen our friend, but what is in abundance is no longer precious.

Ah argon, what can we say about her that hasn’t already been said?

These 3 “men” of the infinitely small are examples of those hence forth this blog will now study, and shall catch others like them – like butterfly catchers, and analyze their wings of influence. For now it is enough to ponder these men who fill the environment before us, who are here now, were here before, and who will be here after we expire.

Think! – Napolean breathed one when he won at the Danube. One saw the assassination of JFK – another the first leap down from the trees of our ancestors – another oxygen molecule had front row seats to Franklin flying his kite – another was in the room when Thomas Jefferson signed that “deal of deals” where most of the western continent (and that land currently beneath those Californians feet) was made for mere pennies. Who knows where the oxygen molecules I just inhaled have been? I feel used – like my organs are a brothel – but they give me life – so I guess it’s a deal.

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